Slow Dance
by bibliophile114
Summary: Indigo Casson and Sarah Warbeck meet because of a sister and an angel. As they fall for one another, Indigo finally does special. The two realize their relationship has always been a subconscious slow dance, but can Sarah and Indy keep the music going?
1. THE WHEELCHAIR GIRL by Indigo Casson

**A/N: Hi all, I'm bibliophile114, also known as Storm, and here's my first Casson fic! These books are very special to me, you see. I have so many memories with them, and the series basically carried through me some of the toughest times in my life. So I love them dearly, and here is my tribute to the Casson family. The fonts won't show on this website, but I've done my best to format the chapters the way it is done in **_**Caddy Ever After**_**. Please read and review (constructive criticism is always welcome)! **

**WARNING: Spoiler alert! I would recommend not reading this fic unless you've read or never plan to read **_**Saffy's Angel**_**, **_**Indigo's Star**_**, **_**Permanent Rose**_**, **_**Caddy Ever After**_**, and **_**Forever Rose**_**. I also suggest that you read "Rose's Blog" on Hilary McKay's website, .uk, which is something of a sequel to the series and contains a lot of the content (from Rose's point of view) that I'll be writing about from Sarah's and Indigo's points of view. If you're good on all these terms, please, read on!**

**DISCLAIMER: The Casson family series and its characters do not belong to me. They are the work of the ineffably lovely Hilary McKay. **

_Slow Dance_

Dedicated to the Casson family, Hilary McKay, and you Casson writers out there.

For Jason, my Indigo, and Waverley, my Saffy.

THE WHEELCHAIR GIRL

by Indigo Casson

At age eleven, I had no idea that the neighbor I knew as simply "the wheelchair girl" would become my sister's best friend, much less my girlfriend.

Saffy was thirteen, and still struggling with being adopted and different. Caddy was eighteen, and failing college and her driving lessons with "Michael darling." Rose was six, and had just begun school. Mum was painting in the shed, and Dad was at his apartment in London, being a real artist.

But Dad has just come home for a visit, and for Granddad's will and funeral. It was when Peter was driving Dad away that "the wheelchair girl" became "Sarah."

Dad had escaped from all of us but Saffron, who had followed him out the door. He hugged Saffron and swung her around, then set her down and hurried to the car. However, in her arms he'd left the sandwiches Mum had made for him. Saffy ran down the road, and threw the sandwiches after him. As she laughed through her tears, the wheelchair girl ran her over.

I saw the entire thing from my windowsill, where I was dealing with the extremes of fear. The particular extreme of fear I was dealing with was heights, and I was complete paralyzed with terror: too frozen with cold and nerves too move or shout. It was getting late, and Caddy still hadn't come to check on me. Sitting up there, I was only half conscious, and I barely watched as Saffy spent ages talking to the wheelchair girl, who was Saffron's age with straight dark hair, which made her face look very pale. Her eyes were the most intriguing: a milky green I'd never seen before. Saffy paced and Sarah rolled up and down the street between their respective houses.

The only reason I realized I'd noticed these things was because Caddy interrogated me after she'd come to the rescue. We listened in shock as the wheelchair girl told Saffy that she just had to find her angel.

Caddy called to both of them to come in, but Saffron looked at us in horror, and dashed Sarah to her house.

Of course, we bombarded her with questions.

This girl was a thing of mystery. I'd always seen her around, but never known her. And anyone who could connect with Saffron that quickly without getting smacked had my instant respect. So I listened to all of Saffy's answers quite carefully. Subconsciously I stowed them away in a special box at the front of my brain named "Sarah."

Saffy stowing away to Italy in Sarah's car and finding her angel (in more ways than one, I like to think) is all a blur in my head, but I know I was thinking about them.

That day, when Saffy and Sarah were back, we were lying in the grass outside the Banana House, I remember vividly.

This fizzy sort of warmth was filling me, and that, the breeze over my face and Sarah's hair tickling my arm, was one of the best feelings I can remember.

We talked about how lovely it was to know Sarah and have her around. I realized that Sarah was something important to everyone, but Saffy and I were always going to be especially jealous whenever the other one had her more.

I accidentally thought out loud. "Sarah's one of my pack now."

Rose and Saffy giggled.

"And what exactly does that mean, Indy? I can call you Indy?" Sarah said, utterly bemused.

I had to be blushing. Way to be cool in front of your older sister's quite lovely new best friend. "It means…" There was no way to get out of this without being honest. "It means that you're important, like a family member. And I'm watching out for you. Yes, you can call me Indy, 'cause you're part of the pack."

This pleased little glow came into Sarah's eyes and I couldn't help but grin as she beamed at me. "I quite like that, Indigo Casson. Thank you. I'm glad you didn't commit autodefenestration."

I looked at her questioningly.

"Autodefenestration," she recited, "is the act of jumping, propelling oneself, or causing oneself to fall, out of a window."

"You saw that?" I mumbled. People were supposed to see these things once I WAS brave, not when I was trying to get there.

"I see things," Sarah said simply. "Let me know if you need help facing the extremes of fear."

Saffy grinned at me. Apparently she talked to Sarah a lot.

But I wasn't thinking about being embarrassed by Saffy. I was thinking that I now knew someone who read and noticed as much as I did. Even about me, I think.


	2. SENSE by Sarah Warbeck

**A/N: Hey guys, here's the next chapter of **_**Slow Dance**_**! **

**So if you've read **_**Always and Forever**_**, those chapters are on the quite long side. With these, I'm not really sure where to go. I could make them one-shots, even near-drabbles, or I could make them chapter-chapters, but shorter than my usual. I think this one will be longer than the first. Let me know what your opinion is on the length, I'm willing to experiment. **

**Also, I have a general story outline, but I'm not quite sure where I'm going with the next chapter. I will probably check out the books from the library for the umpteenth time to make sure I'm on the right track and all. It could be a while before I update again, unfortunately. **

**But if you have any ideas for the story, please review and let me know! I am not making any promises that I will use your idea, but I really appreciate the feedback. Plus, if you have any prompts for any kind of story or oneshot, especially fanfiction or something for the Casson family series, please tell me! I'd love to write something else in addition to Slow Dance! **

**One more thing: Thank you so much to SummerStarWatcher for posting a lovely review of the first chapter! You rock! **

**Hope you enjoy it and can take a bit of time to review! Thanks all! **

**bibliophile114 **

**WARNING: Spoiler alert! I would recommend not reading this fic unless you've read or never plan to read **_**Saffy's Angel**_**, **_**Indigo's Star**_**, **_**Permanent Rose**_**, **_**Caddy Ever After**_**, and **_**Forever Rose**_**. I also suggest that you read "Rose's Blog" on Hilary McKay's website, .uk, which is something of a sequel to the series and contains a lot of the content (from Rose's point of view) that I'll be writing about from Sarah's and Indigo's points of view. If you're good on all these terms, please, read on!**

**DISCLAIMER: The Casson family series and its characters do not belong to me. They are the work of the incredibly creative Hilary McKay. **

SENSE (IN MULTIPLE SENSES OF THE WORD)

by Sarah Warbeck

the first time I met indigo casson, it was his eyes that hit me.

They were blue, but not like Saffy's. Caddy and Saffy had Eve's (and Linda's) eyes, almond-shaped and usually blue, but they changed slightly in different lights and with different clothes, so sometimes they looked a bit green. It made their golden hair even more striking.

But Indigo's eyes were different. They were a clear, steady, deep blue of the ocean on a still day. They were the sort of eyes that never left my face once you had his focus. The sort of eyes that were so expressive, all I had to do to get a grasp of what he was feeling was to look into them. They were the sort of eyes that I'd always listen to, and never be able to stop watching.

And I could never doubt the way they looked at me. Some people's eyes made me second-guess myself, some people's eyes made me nervous, some people's eyes made me worried or self-conscious. Even Saffy's eyes could get to me sometimes, when she was angry or scrutinized me.

Indigo's gaze was always sure. His eyes never left mine when we spoke, and it was never unnerving. His eyes understood me and saw things others didn't, but weren't piercing or criticizing. I was safe and happy inside his eyes.

Indigo came down with mononucleosis just months after I met him. I never showed it to anyone (though Rose, so like her brother, may have seen it, and I caught a couple of suspicious glances from Saffy), but I was worried sick about him. He still seemed so young and frail to me. His state of bed-rest meant I rarely got to see him. And worst of all, his worry, boredom, and illness made a little light fade out of his eyes. There weren't many more things I hated than seeing Indy without light in his eyes. Sometimes it was quiet but it was almost always there, and my days were different when it wasn't.

As soon as Indigo recovered, Tom Levin came to England. And what a whirlwind that was. A whirlwind of Indigo, Rose, and Tom, that is. Saffy and I weren't quite in on their game, and while Saff was more or less used to it, I was rather bothered. But Tom made everyone happy, especially Indy, so it was all right.

I learned that part of the damned reason that took the light out of Indigo Casson's eyes was the gang at school—worthless, imbecilic bullies who were stupid enough to pick on Indigo. There are few people I've despised more than Tony and his followers.

As soon as Saffy found out what the case was with her little brother, she told me. My fury must have matched hers, and Saff and I had one of our many moments where we were both struck with the same mad idea.

We dashed into that classroom, and my heart jolted at seeing those boys trying to hurt Indigo. Nobody did that. Nobody.

I had to protect him. I was like a sister to him, wasn't I?

But when Saffy and I valiantly defeated the gang, Indy got angry. I read those tell-all eyes of his, and I saw anger, humiliation, indignation, and hurt.

I'd just been trying to help him, but I put that look in his eyes.

Tom brought more to us than those bullies. He brought his guitar, and taught Indigo how.

"All right, everybody," Tom said, marching into the living room. "Indy's just learned his first big song. Sit down and listen up."

Nobody defied Tom in our family. It wasn't that he was bossy, it was that he was charming and we all adored him.

Bill was in London and Caddy was at university, but Eve, Saffron, Rose, and I sat obediently in the living room. I sprawled comfortably against an ottoman.

Indigo walked in shyly, Tom's guitar strung over his shoulder. Tom immediately sat down next to Rose, mimed speaking into a microphone, and announced "Indigo Casson, ladies and gents, playing "I Want to Hold Your Hand", by The Beatles."

Indigo sat down in his favorite chair, one knee crooked. He positioned his fingers and took a deep breath. I couldn't stop watching him. He caught my eye for one moment, then looked out and began to play.

"_Oh yeah, I'll tell you something. I think you'll understand…_" Indy sang softly along to the guitar. I'd never heard him sing before. His voice was unpolished, but his pitch was spot-on, and, I realized, I loved the sound of his voice.

I mouthed the words along with him, but watched and listened carefully. He played through the entire song without faltering, entirely focused on the guitar.

The whole time, there was a slight smile on his face, and the light shone in his eyes.

Some things I didn't know (true wisdom, I know). But I knew that I absolutely loved it when Indigo Casson made music.

And, okay, when he made food. There was something adorable about him scouring the cupboards for whatever random ingredients Eve had managed to buy, scrapping them all together with his wild culinary creativity, and serving it neatly to his family. Indigo's meals always tasted like home.

"Food tastes great, Indy," I smiled at him.

"I like eating at your house better," he told me. "More ingredients and variety."

I laughed. "But you put more hard work into it here."

Indigo blushed. "I dunno, from the way your mom's cooking tastes, she works pretty hard on it."

"Like everything she does," I grinned. "Ah, well, grass is always greener, right?"

"Right." His grin matched mine.

I usually gave Indigo a hug every time I saw him. Sometimes as a greeting, sometimes as a good-bye, sometimes both. Sometimes one in-between for whatever reason. I know I'm the one in the wheelchair and Indigo's the protective one of his pack, but Indigo always seemed like someone I just had to watch out for. Maybe that's how we always were. Both trying to protect the other, and doing a miserable job of trying not to show it. So our hugs were some of the gentlest moments I could remember. He was soft and slight in my arms and I began to look forward to that comfortable happiness when Indigo and I were precisely in the same moment.

He's Saffy's little brother. I haven't known him that long. So why am I so ridiculously attached to Indigo Casson?

I don't understand this at all. But I will make sense of it soon, before I lose all sense.


End file.
